He's a self-proclaimed videogame freak. She thinks the library is her second home. Together, they're going to take over the world...er...right after he figures out what she did with his box of cereal...

My face feels warm
and I know I must look ridiculous, wearing a knit hat, heavy coat,
scarf, and mittens in a building that's been a constant 85 degrees
Fahrenheit since the administration decided to turn on the heat. Not
that I'm complaining; I hate the cold.

I
look down at my shoes, immediately feeling guilty and ashamed for
getting the already frazzled Natalie riled up over something that
really isn't a big deal. "I can," I say. And then with more
conviction, "I will."

"Okay.
Good," Natalie shakes her head, not even bothering to look up and
continuing to read over her notes, subtly reminding me that I'm
disturbing her quiet study time.

"I'll
leave now," I announce hastily. Natalie looks visibly relieved.

"See
you later. Have fun."

"I
will. Study hard." She spares me one of her rare half-smiles, to
let me know that things are okay between us.

At
first it's relief I experience when I finally exit the room and
shut the door behind me. Then it's stupidity I feel. What am I
going to do? I don't want to go downtown by myself and everyone's
too busy studying for finals to go with me-Natalie…Sarai…Parker
Sinclair…Karen; I was even so desperate as to ask Taylor Wincraft
from Ryder House. But she's too cool for me, so of course she
wouldn't go to a juvenile thing like a Christmas tree lighting. I
finished my last exam this morning and am ready for a little fun, but
everyone else has a few more left to go, so I'm stuck partying by
myself. And what a lively party that is. Yay.

Actually, there IS
one more person left that could possibly go with me. I don't think
Barron has an exam tomorrow. This morning I saw him coming out of
Rochester, the industrial engineering building. He had a huge smile
on his face…accompanied by a glazed over look. He waved to me,
which in a clearer state of mind, he would never have done. Anyways,
I could pop over to Duffry and see if the post-exam enthusiasm has
worn off yet, but I don't want to risk it. Plus, it would probably
open up a whole can of worms. The long, awkward kind.

I
wander down to the lounge, berating myself for not at least changing
into more comfortable clothes or taking a book out from our room
before hiding out in the library for the rest of the night. The
lounge is deserted except for David, who's playing Mario Kart by
himself.

"Hey,
play against me," David directs, tossing me a controller, happy
that he has a person to play against. He does a double take at my
appearance.

"Going
somewhere?" he asks, trying not to laugh. I ignore him, shed my
jacket, hat, scarf, and mittens, and pick up the offered controller.

"What
are you doing here?" I demand to know, while struggling to figure
out the controller functions. David lives in Spumock House, the dorm
two buildings down from mine.

"A
couple of different study groups took over our lounge. Your house is
the only one with an unoccupied television," he replies
nonchalantly, like he hasn't just waltzed into enemy territory and
claimed their television for his own purposes.

I
don't bother to mention that the reason my dorm, Kelvin House, is
pretty much empty is because everybody is either camped out at the
library or at another dorm, with their study group. Except for
Natalie, of course. That's the downside to being a Temp, a member
of Kelvin House…the party is never here, it's always somewhere
else, away from us boring, non-descriptive Temps.

It's
not even a close game and David quickly realizes it's more fun to
play against the computer than to play against me. He switches to a
fighting game, one that only requires button-mashing from me and to
my surprise and his, I actually beat him for three straight rounds.

"Okay,"
David says, switching to yet another game, "No more of that
either." He looks embarrassed, like I've threatened his video
game playing ability or something. I lose horribly at Bomber Man and
David's ego is restored.

"So
why are you dressed up like that, anyways?" David asks
conversationally, while we wait for the game to reload.

"The
festival downtown," I reply. I didn't bother to ask Sam, a friend
of mine and David's roommate, to go because I know he's working
on his comp sci program that's due tomorrow. Actually, I haven't
seen the guy in a couple of days, but people tell me Sam's holed up
in the computer labs, writing furiously with his fellow CSC
procrastinators. And I think David would laugh at me if I go into any
more specifics. Truthfully, it's really childish, but I've never
seen a Christmas tree lighting before and I want to see one. But not
so much as to sacrifice my dignity in front of David Gallagher.

"Whadidjasay?"
David asks, as the both of us try frantically to plant as many bombs
as possible to clear the bricks that are blocking the bag of gold
coins. We both concentrate and David wins again. As usual.

I
thought the subject was dropped but David remembers anyways, and asks
me to repeat my answer again. To my embarrassment, he switches off
the game system and turns to give me his complete and undivided
attention. I decide to get it over with, and tell him, focusing on
the sign on the door behind his head. He's grinning like a maniac
when I finally dredge up the courage to meet his eyes.

"Christmas
tree lighting?" he asks, trying to hide his laughter.

"Yeah.
So what?" I ask defensively, hugging my arms to myself because it's
suddenly gotten colder in the room.

"Nothing,"
David says, leaning back in the overstuffed couch, the laughter still
palpable in his voice.

That
bastard.

"So
why aren't you downtown?" David asks.

Ouch.
As if one time wasn't enough.

"Couldn't
find anyone to go with," I respond, trying to be as nonchalant as
possible, but knowing full well that I'm failing miserably.

David
rubs his jaw, like he's thinking. He hasn't shaved in a while,
and is starting to grow a goatee. I think that's partly due to
laziness and lack of money for razors, but I'm not too sure which
one plays a bigger role. Since he broke up with Karen, bits of the
pre-AVIT David has come back. The one that goes around barefoot all
the time, even in the rain, singing old Disney show tunes. The
hilariously funny, slightly nauseating, less academically-minded
David. The one that taught me the Animaniacs' Presidents song in
high school…during church.

"Why
don't I go with you?" he asks.

"Really?
I know it's kinda stupid but I've never seen one before…you
don't have to come if you don't want to…I mean, you probably
have an exam tomorrow and should stay in and study-"

David
frowns. "That's not the point," he counters impatiently, "Ask
me if I want to go so I know you actually want me there and I haven't
just invited myself along."

He
does have a point; do I really want to be in the exclusive company of
the obnoxious David Gallagher for such a long period of time? I might
not survive the evening without breaking into my carefully hidden
violent tendencies. I decide to risk it anyways, because I really
want to see the lighting festival, and at this desperate time, it
really doesn't matter who I'm seeing it with. I roll my eyes to
let him know how stupid this is.

"David,
there's a Christmas tree lighting festival downtown. Would you like
to go?"

We
make a quick stop back to David's room for a coat and then we're
bumping along on the bus on our way downtown.

The
bus is crowded, full of holiday shoppers and families out to enjoy
the "winter wonderland" view. I'm squashed between David and a
lady with four enormous shopping bags and I curse my lack of height
that's causing my arm to feel numb from hanging on to the pole for
too long. If it weren't for the lady's shopping bags, I would've
pitched head long across the aisle four turns ago. I incline my head
towards the shopping bags to acknowledge their life-saving properties
as the lady climbs off the bus at her stop. Her place is taken by a
couple near my age, the guy's arm around his girl's waist. I take
care not to bump into them; the girl looks like the type that would
scream bloody murder if I did, and the guy looks like he could beat
me into a bloody pulp without much effort.

But
I don't need to worry because the bus suddenly stops. I stand on my
tiptoes and twist around to see what's going on.

"Traffic
jam," David tells me. I glower at him, not only because of his
news, but because of his height. The freak of nature is still at
least a head taller than everyone on this bus. It's a wonder that
he can even fit, standing up. I smile, appeased and amused, when I
realize that he's actually ducking, and his broad shoulders are
hunched over. That can't be too comfortable either.

We
wait a few minutes longer. The couple next to me has begun a rather
risqué make-out session and from the front of the bus, I can
hear a baby crying. The bus driver opens the doors, to let anyone who
wants to leave out, instead of waiting for the jam to clear up to go.
A blast of cold air hits, and I shrink down lower, glad for the
barrier of bodies blocking the icy wind.

David
exhales. "Okay, let's go," he says. I look at him blankly. Is
he crazy? It's gotta be below zero out there!

"I
thought you wanted to go see that lighting festival, KT," he says
impatiently, when he realizes I haven't budged at all.

"I
do," I say.

"Well,
we're going to miss it if we wait the jam out," David says
pointedly.

"But
it's cold," I reply, my voice taking on a whining quality.

David
rolls his eyes. "No shit, Sherlock," he says, "Do you want to
see the lighting or not?"

"Yes,"
I respond, sure my nose is frozen solid by now.

"Then
let's go!" David orders impatiently.

I
resignedly follow him out of the bus and on to the busy street. The
street is also crowded with holiday shoppers and I bump into quite a
few. David becomes impatient again, the third time he realizes I've
lagged behind to stop help a lady pick up her spilled packages,
courtesy of me of course, and seizes my arm and pulls me along at a
pace I can barely keep up with.

I'm
panting heavily, like a dog (not a pretty, but nonetheless true,
comparison) when we finally arrive. Even though the crowd is huge,
and we're pretty far back, I can still make out the tree clearly,
even above all those tall heads. The mayor of the city mounts the
podium and begins his speech about the accomplishments of this year.
Even though I can't see him, I can hear him, loud and clear, and
quite a few people look at me strangely when I snort at Mayor
Crossbridge's declaration that "Newark's education system has
made great strides this past academic year."

Great
strides my ass, more like great slides, backwards, that is.

The
mayor winds up his speech with a Thoreau quote, the few I recognize
because it's the one printed on those awful greeting cards I
receive every year from my dad and his girlfriend of the season. My
mind snaps back from its state of semi-consciousness to full focus
when Mayor Crossbridge announces that he will now "light the lights
of the city." Just then, a cool gust of wind blows and I sneeze, my
eyes watering, forcing me to close them. When I open my eyes again,
I'm aware of the crowd cheering, and the previously dark tree
magnificently ablaze. I can make out the little patterns of stars at
the base, and the larger flower shapes (poinsettias?), around the
crown.

"Pretty
cool, huh, KT?" the near forgotten David asks.

I
open my mouth to agree, but instead a complaint tumbles out. "I
hate the cold," I gripe.

And
then I realize…

"I
forgot my mittens! They're still in the lounge!" Damn.

David
shoots me a weird look, and grabs me by the hand. "Come on, let's
walk around," he says, dragging me closer to the tree, away from
the dispersing crowd.

And
even though it's freezing, David is being bearable, his large hand
is warm around my near frostbitten one, all of downtown really does
look like a scene from a Christmas cartoon, and I can't say I
regret leaving the relative warmth of the bus or my room.

Especially
when David buys me a bag of peanuts, and doesn't complain when the
hungry pigeons get more out of the deal than either of us.

Merry
Christmas.

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